Lessons Of Love, Life, and Christian Grey
by OfCoffeeAndIceCreams
Summary: Smitten and hormonally imbalanced Anastasia Steele has considered Christian Grey the love of her life. Just how far will she go to make the CEO feel the same? While singlehandedly trying to fend off psycho stalkers, blonde wanna-be's and the dark past that haunts him. She learns the lessons about love, life and Christian Grey...the hard way. Love IS definitely a battlefield.
1. Chapter 1

**Lessons Of Love, Life, and Christian Grey**

**By:**

**OfCoffeeAndIceCreams**

* * *

He's just so hot. It feels like my undies get jerked the opposite direction whenever he looks at me with those mesmerizing gray eyes.

"Mr. Grey wants this sorted out." Pauline drops a stack of folders on my desk.

"Sure," I replied.

"Have mercy on the pencil." She said, giggling. I was taken out of my reverie as I checked the damage on the poor number 2 pencil.

I'm so lame.

"Good morning sir." I stand up, straightening the imaginary wrinkle on my pencil skirt as the man of my dreams and daydreams walks in.

He gives me a curt nod and continues to his office.

He's just so…oh I feel like a lascivious fifty-year old woman as I stared at his retreating back. If something as small as his back makes me do a complete 360, I think that's enough reason why I have been crushing—well actually fallen head over heels with the guy—for the past three years.

_You've just been working for him for a month, dumbass._

Go to hell!

Christian Grey, twenty-eight years of age, the love of my life.

He was twenty-five years old when my nineteen-year old hormonally imbalanced self fell for him. The beginning of our love story…well it was awkward

_Understatement of the year goes to Lanky-Clumsy-Hormonally-Imbalanced-Ana_

Shut up! Just once.

I try to tune out the sing-song voice of my subconscious. As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted, he was in WSU talking to one of the professor and several students about a breakthrough agricultural method, I was observing him how he was so deeply enthralled, and the passion in his eyes.

And then it happened.

"_Are you okay?" He had come to my assistance, taking me by the arm and helping me up._

**_(I am so glad I'm just your subconscious, you and your clumsiness. –SHUT UP!—Don't forget the part you spilled the beer all over your dress)_**

_Yes I spilled the beer all over my dress—oh don't fucking look at me like that!_

_It was my first time out of Savannah, no Ray or mom to tell me what to do! And all the incoming freshies were being handed one!_

_So okay I was dripping wet, I smelled strongly of malt beer as he helped me up, the professor and students were eyeing me._

"_I tripped on something." I answered immediately. He smiled the smile that reached his beautiful grey eyes as he fished out his embroidered handkerchief and hand it to me. _

_Should I go into detail how mortified I was?!_

**_(You forgot one part!—Oh shit!)_**

_So he handed me the handkerchief and said to me, "Are you okay?"_

"_Yeah." My ankle throbbed in protest_

_He smiled again. Putting his mouth near my ear as he whispered, "Lay off the beer, you're getting tipsy," patting me in the back lightly he went on his way. _

I have been irrevocably in love with him ever since.

**_Tell them the part of your throbbing ankle! Hahaha!_**

Fuck you!

I sigh. So you want to know the truth? Bet you couldn't handle it. I'm still pretty damn humiliated, to this day, about what really happened.

I tripped alright, and it wasn't me being tipsy, or the rock that was supposedly there or the slightly elevated ground that I didn't notice.

No…

From that moment on I think I had been given a big neon sign on my forehead that said BAD LUCK WANTED.

God, this is so embarrassing.

It was hard enough to explore the university with a throbbing ankle, but imagine my humiliation when I came back to the apartment and tried to explain to Kate that the supposed, drunken state/rock/elevated ground turned out to be my other foot.

From then on, I have read the tabloids, news articles or the internet gossip about anything and everything pertaining to Christian Grey.

What can I say? I'm smitten.

So when the opportunity presented itself to be able to work so close to him, I grabbed it like a pitbull with its jaw lock on its prey. Andrea, his previous secretary got herself knocked-up and married, before she officially left her employment she had '_suggested'_ me as replacement (I have to thank Kate's wide network of friends, and after pulling some very fragile strings, I found myself sitting ten feet from him every day, with a view that would put Seattle's best to shame.)

Hallelujah for glass walls!

The intercom on my desk came to life and the sultry, commanding voice of the CEO snapped me out of my reminiscing.

"_Andrea, coffee."_

_He doesn't fucking know your name. This is like watching 'Everybody Loves Raymond', only this is real and funnier._

I roll my eyes.

IS IT SO DIFFICULT TO REMEMBER THE NAME ANA?!

I pressed the intercom again, "Yes sir"

I half-heartedly, drag my ass off the chair and went into the pantry.

I feel so deflated, it's been a month and still, he can't get my name right!

This is so frustrating!

If I'm not Andrea, I'm Amanda. Oh God!

I placed the coffee filter on the basket.

It's as if our moment years ago didn't affect him? It certainly affected me.

_His normal, you're not._

Maybe he doesn't remember me.

_As a matter of fact, you got uglier…fatter actually. _

Ugh this is so frustrating. You're my subconscious you should be on my side?

_What side, the stupid side? Or the awkward-lanky side?_

Fuck you, you stupid bitch!

_Very eloquent Ana._

The coffee finished, I grabbed a tray from one of the cupboards, placed the coffee, sugar, and creamer on the try and headed on my way.

Okay I can do this. A few feet away from the glass door, I stop.

How the hell am I going to open it with me carrying his tray of refreshment?!

I peered inside, hoping he would see me and, like the gentleman that he is would open the door...

...

...

...

and we'd make passionate love on his desk.

_Snap out of it Anastasia! _

My subconscious internally slaps me.

He's there, a scowl on his face, concentrated on his Mac. He looks so good, with the first two buttons of his shirt opened, and the black blazer that complemented his gorgeous copper locks and tantalizing gray eyes.

FOCUS ANA!

God, how am I going to open this.

I turned around, I have an idea. Using my behind I try to push the menacing door open.

_You have a nonexistent behind._

Shut up!

The door opens slightly; it's not as easy as it sounds, especially when you're wearing three inch stilettos.

I see him look up, and then get back to his Mac.

Fucking Unbelievable…but he's so cute concentrating.

I finally opened the glass door in a way that the tray and I could come in without any hassle, smiling in victory, I turned to walk towards my boss.

I'm all smiling and floaty feeling, that I feel like Mary-Frickin-Poppins.

I flip my long brunette hair lightly, I feel like a porn star.****_Sir I have your coffee, do you like cream or sugar?**_**

And then it happened, in one swift movement.

My subconscious was on the edge of her seat, as if she was watching the final round for Mohammad Ali's Thrilla in Manila, she dropped the can of soda she was holding and the bowl of popcorn spilled to the floor as she rose from her seat and did her little victory dance.

I, Anastasia Rose Steele, of sound mind and of legal age, was blessed with both left feet.

Everything happened in slow motion, I heard my right ankle snap, I felt the heel of my stiletto give way as I fell on the plush carpet, I saw in unbelievable clarity—everything was in Blu-ray, 3D and HD—the coffee spilling on my white frilly blouse, and the cream and sugar dusting me from hair to face.

"Fuck it!" I shouted, the pain on my ankle shooting up my leg.

In four easy steps Christian Grey was looming over me, I didn't want to look up. I was afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes; oh the shame!

Gravity your a fat-ass bitch!

He bended his knees so he was in my eye level. I looked at him warily…

Is that amusement in his eyes? He reached inside his blazer, producing the oh-so-familiar handkerchief. (The same thing I have in my closet, with all the candles, offertory chicken and ritualistic paraphernalia).

He lightly dabbed his handkerchief on my cheeks, then into my chin.

"I told you, lay off the beer."

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Thank you for reading! Now please do me a favor and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own FSOG. All rights to the characters go to E.L James, story line is mine...(my precious)


	2. Chapter 2

_Italicized - subconscious_

**_Italicized and bold - inner goddess_**

**Bold - daydream**

* * *

Previously on Lessons of Love, Life and Christian Grey

_He bended his knees so he was in my eye level. I looked at him warily…_

_Is that amusement in his eyes?_

"_I told you, lay off the beer." _

* * *

I stared at him, my mouth on the floor—so as my underwear and brassiere—as it spilled out gallons and gallons of saliva.

My inner goddess emerges from the jungle, with nothing but leaves for her clothes, a boar's thigh bone that fixed her hair in this weird up do, and her teeth biting a knife made of sharpened rock. She looks like a character out of the movie Rambo.

_Close your mouth you pathetic bitch! _

My ever so worried conscious slaps me from my momentary paralyzation.

"Ow…" Was all I could manage.

Really?! Seriously?! Of all the days our Lord God has created, dyslexia and Tourrette's decided to finally kick in now.

I MEAN, SERIOUSLY?!

"Can you walk?" He asked, holding my throbbing ankle.

Oh God he's actually touching me!

_Did you suddenly forget you twisted your ankle? And it's very painful._

Pain? What pain? He is the Morphine for my pain. I am a rock, I am a steady rock with no feelings for pain…yes sireee…I am—

"St…Stop." I whispered as he tried to put my foot back down.

Yes! I should win an Oscar for Best Actress.

He froze midway while trying to put my throbbing ankle back on the floor. He looked at me, trying to assess me.

I put on my ultimate-puppy-kicked-on-the-stomach-Bambi's-mom-g ot-killed-and-Woody-and-the-gang-getting-incinerat ed-pained-almost-to-the-brink-of-crying look.

"Okay, I'm going to put your foot down gently; I need to call someone so we could get this checked."

"It's really painful" I sobbed a little.

He smiled, his face suddenly becoming closer, slowly but surely it inches from mine.

Oh my God! He's gonna fucking kiss me!

My inner goddess is showered and ready to go, wearing only her g-string, nipple caps, yellow and red boa on her neck.

_You look like fucking Hulk Hogan. _

Would you two please stop, I'm having a moment here!

They remove their death glares from one another and concentrate on the situation at hand; both immediately go to Secret-Service mode.

_Operation Dream Kiss is now active, this is not a drill, I repeat this is not a drill._

I could smell him, masculine, tea and jasmine body wash.

I closed my eyes, as I felt his breathing on my lips.

WE'RE ACTUALLY BREATHING THE SAME AIR!

His nose on mine and I could almost feel those soft, luscious lips grazing mine.

"Does it still hurt?" I open my eyes, the millimeter-ish distance a while ago was now a foot away.

"Huh?" I asked, dumbfounded.

He chuckled lightly, "Your foot," his eyes smiling.

FUCK!

My short-lived fantasy shattering into a million tiny pieces, and I'm in the middle of the wreck; surrounded by shards of my dignity and self-respect.

_Do you even have those?_

My foot is now back on the floor, as Christian stands up, goes back to his desk, and picks up the phone. He tricked me! He fucking trick me with the fake-I'm-about-to-kiss-you moment.

And here I was, hoping to get that dream kiss, thanks a lot Christian, now my hope goes down two more notches.

_Maybe he'll get the janitor, who would want to walk on your dignity and self-respect anyway? Even I would rather have my eye gouged._

I was a flirty-pornstar-wannabe when I entered, and now I'm this insecure-Tourette-afflicted-dyslexic-pre-teen-with -absolutely-no-dignity, all in exactly five point two seconds.

_A new record! _

I could feel my cheeks burning; I could feel the color on my face becoming one million shades of red. And for once I am not exaggerating.

Christian turns back to me, walking and stooping down at my level, 'THE' smile still on his face.

"That was embarrassing," I whispered, my eyes finding the imaginary lint on the carpet a lot more interesting.

He chuckled, placing his right arm under my knees—I jumped a little at the contact…oh the wave of electricity, it felt like one thousand volts jolting into every crevice in my body (by crevice I mean THERE)

_You make me sick Ana, perv._

"I'm going to carry you to the couch,"

Oh GOD! I am now internally hyperventilating. My inner goddess hands me the brown paper bag.

_**Inhale, Exhale, we could do this ANA!**_

I nodded, hesitantly, although I'm doing back flips internally.

He places his other muscular arm behind my back, "Hold on," He whispered.

I placed my arms around his neck (ever so shyly...I don't want him having ideas that I like him)

_Like? Seriously_

Okay fine 'love' him. Happy?

Having him this close is making me delirious,

"**Oh Ana, I have always loved you. Ever since I laid my eyes on you"**

"**Oh Christian, I love you too."**

"What?" He said chuckling, as he placed me gently on the white leather couch in his office.

Did I just say that out loud?

"You just said 'Oh Christian'"

My inner goddess and subconscious face palmed.

"I said, Oh Christ...man. I didn't say Christian…"

_I really want to hit you now Ana. You are SO lame_

He sat down at the other end of the couch, careful not to hit my 'painful' ankle

"…Sir" I said as an afterthought. I looked down at my hands, constantly looking at him through my eyelashes.

Why is he looking at me like that?! Like I'm funny or something.

_Pathetic is more suitable Ana._

"I'm sorry sir for having disturbed you, I have the coordination and balance of a newborn."

He smiled at me, checking his watch. He stood up when two women came inside his office. I looked at them intently.

What do we have here?

My inner goddess, brings out her AK-47.

It's the BLONDES.

The nurse walks to my side, her glare piercing my very soul. I glared back, I WILL NOT BACK DOWN.

The other blonde was wearing a pencil skirt and a blouse that was borderline frontless, a V-neck with the tip of the V reaching her navel; Human resources. I glared at her as well.

The BLONDES is a group of well, blondes-_DUH Ana, I think they got that bit-_at the top of the food chain, the elites, the only ones allowed to look at Christian, be smiled at by Christian, be tapped on the shoulder by Christian…well you get the point. They are composed of the human resources, marketing department and the medical staff.

Anyone who does not belong in any of the three departments gets thrown into the wall.

As the blonde nurse works on my foot (which she is deliberately handling with no care whatsoever) I looked over at Christian and V-neck girl. They were in deep conversation.

Oh God, am I getting fired?

Christian's voices was now three octaves higher. Something about dress code?

V-neck girl rolls her eyes.

"We have to look like we know what we're doing." She replied.

A moment of silence passed between them, blondie nurse was now looking at them too.

And then it happened...like a shark attack...

...like the lion jumping on its prey...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...V-neck girl pulls Christian's collar toward her and kisses him.

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A/N: I am so happy with the reviews, faves and follows I have gotten. Thank you all! I hope you enjoyed chapter 2 as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope it made you smile. Now go forth and write a review! toodles!


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